Byron Headrick

(April 16 1972 / Scotsboro, Alabama)

What It Means to Compromise

Smoking cigars, drinking
Scotch, setting outside
Candle light night
Writing poetry – seems
Romantic to me, but NOT
My health crazed
Californian lover who
Lays awake these nights
Worrying that I will die
Young – from lung cancer
The only man that has ever
Given multiple orgasms
Like tender gift wrapped

She pretends to be
Asleep, when I enter
Smelling of tobacco
And scotch, she pretends
I wake her as I
Spoon next smelling
Her showered cleanness -
Ivory and strawberries
She says, “MMMMMMMM
Hello dear..mmmmmmm….Did
You write something beautiful? ”
I reply, ” Nothing as beautiful as you.”
Letting my hand slip slide across her
Hip curve, where there
Should be fur, but NOT
Just silk then folds
This seems romantic
To her and thus
We share, settle
And compromise.

Submitted: Sunday, November 20, 2005
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